


Haven Crew Prompts

by CookieDoughMe



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Tumblr Prompts, collection of ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe
Summary: My responses to the prompts from the lovelyHavencrew on tumblr.One chapter per prompt. Originally postedon tumblr.





	1. Week One: Tied Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [the prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/158992611603/week-one-the-prompt-i-wonder-what-wouldve):
> 
> “I wonder what would’ve happened if I never met you.”  
> “You’d probably not be tied up right now, for starters.” 
> 
> \--
> 
> Two little ficlets - one for Duke x Nathan, one for Duke x Evi. Sexy themes but nothing explicit.

**Fic One: Duke + Nathan**

["Cuffs"](https://cookiedoughmeagain.tumblr.com/post/159002732651/cuffs-haven-fanfic)

 

Nathan tried again to get his hands free, but with no success. They didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, but the side of his head throbbed where it had been slammed against the wall, and he did not appreciate being taken captive for no apparent reason.

“What do these people have against you exactly?” he asked Duke.

“They are engaged in a disagreement with some associates of mine,” Duke replied calmly.

Nathan waited for more detail, but none seemed to be forthcoming. “And …?” he prompted.

“And, they want to make sure I don’t have a chance to do something tonight that would be inconvenient for them.”

Nathan frowned. “What kind of something?”

“Well I really couldn’t say Officer,” Duke replied and got a huff of frustration from Nathan in response.

“And how sure do they need to be that you don’t get the chance to do ‘something’?”

“They’re not going to kill us, if that’s what you mean. There is a limited window of opportunity, they just need to make sure I don’t use it. They’ll keep us ‘til morning, then let us go.”

“You’re that sure?”

“No one goes to the trouble of giving themselves the job of disposing of two bodies unless they have to Nathan, believe me. They’re just not that interested in me and they’re barely interested in you at all.”

“And yet here I am,” Nathan observed, anything but comforted by Duke’s reasoning.

“They think you’re my partner which, given what we were doing when they’re found us, isn’t that unreasonable,” replied Duke, amused.

“When we get out of here, I am finding something to arrest you for,” said Nathan with conviction.

“Well Nate,” said Duke with a smirk, “if you wanted me in cuffs you only had to ask.”

Nathan glared at him and tried again without success to reach the bonds on his feet. Him and Duke both were well and truly restrained.

“What are we even tied up with? Are these yours?” asked Nathan, taking a closer look in the dim light at the studded black leather that ran around his ankles.

“That is some top quality leather work right there,” said Duke in a kind of agreement.

“This boat is a pile of rusting junk, your sweaters have holes in, but you’ll pay out for top quality leather cuffs?”

“I never said I paid for them. Not in money, anyway,” he added with a suggestive grin. “And don’t talk about the Rouge like that. She may look like a pile of junk, but she’ll fool you.”

Nathan offered only a non-committal, “Hmm.”

The night passed slowly. It was cold and dark, and Nathan got pins and needles in his feet. All they could do was talk, which they did intermittently.

Eventually, as daylight started to seep its way into the hold, the gang of men that had taken over the Rouge that evening pointed a large number of guns at them. One of them undid Duke’s cuffs and then they backed out of the room, leaving him to untie Nathan while they left the boat.

To Nathan’s slight surprise, Duke undid his restraints right away, without so much as a hint of a joke about maybe leaving him there a bit longer.

As Nathan stamped the blood flow back into his feet, Duke picked up the collection of leather cuffs from the floor.

“You know,” Duke began, “these would look very fetching on you in different circumstances.”

“Don’t push your luck, Crocker.”

“Well they probably wouldn’t look so bad on me either. Come back later and we can finish what we started before those goons interrupted us. You can put these cuffs to better use.”

“Don’t make me arrest you,” replied Nathan as he walked past Duke to leave. But even as he said it he knew, and Duke knew it too, that Nathan would be back later. And that he wouldn’t be bringing his police-issue handcuffs with him.

 

\---

 

**Fic Two: Duke + Evi**

["Singapore"](https://cookiedoughmeagain.tumblr.com/post/159035604016/singapore-haven-fic-duke-evi)

 

Duke focused on his breathing, in the hope that a little extra oxygen in his lungs would help shift the alcohol and clear his head.

He was in a boat that was travelling at a pretty good speed. So from their starting point of Singapore, with a few hours’ journey so far (he had definitely passed out for a while there), they could be headed for … almost anywhere really.

He tried to retrace his steps. He’d been having a night off. He’d been in the bar by the marina. There had been a woman; an American woman. Evi. They’d got to talking. She’d flirted with him. He’d flirted back. She’d bought some drinks.

He’d expected to wake up with a sore head. He hadn’t expected to wake up tied to … whatever it was he was tied to. He couldn’t move his hands, so he tried to turn his head to see what was behind him, but all that achieved was to make the room spin.

Then the door opened and there she was. She’d got changed and redone her makeup since the bar, and she seemed irritatingly sober.

“What. The hell is going on?” Duke said. “Whose boat is this? Where are we headed?”

“I’ll have you back in Singapore tomorrow, don’t worry,” she said as she came to stand in front of him. She ran a finger down the side of his face to his chest in a gesture meant to be either a threat or a turn-on, Duke couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was meant to be both.

“And until then?” he asked.

“Until then, you are a very important pawn in a very long con,” she replied. “Keep quiet and look scared and I might even cut you in on some of the take.”

Somehow that was very far from anything he’d been expecting to hear, but it did explain a few things. She watched him closely, apparently satisfying herself that he understood.

“Did you spike my drink?” he asked.

“Well only a little,” she replied. “You’ll be fine,” she added and turned to leave the room.

But Duke had one more question, “Wait. Why me?”

She looked at him in a way that made him think that gesture hadn’t been a threat at all. With a smile she finally answered, “That’s a question for another time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now go to [the round up post on tumblr](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/159419467713/week-one-fic-roundup-you-guys-are-awesome) to see what others did with the same prompt :)


	2. Week Two: Body Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [the prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/159949915038/week-two-fic-roundup-great-job-guys-this-weeks): “Over the bridge, take a right, there’s the body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set late in the series, in some kind of alternative timeline.

“Over the bridge, take a right, there’s the body.”

Charlotte nodded an acknowledgement to Stan and grabbed her bag from the car. As she followed his directions she kept a lookout for Duke, who was hopefully waiting there for her. She checked her bag as she went; this would be the first major test of their theory that they could use aether for good, and she was nervous.

If it worked, Jess’s continued insistence that they regard the Troubles as powerful and useful magic would have paid off. If it didn’t work? Well, then at best the Troubles would have claimed another body and they would be no further forward in their attempts to find a solution. At worst - well at worst, who knew? Anything could happen if she’d got it wrong.

It had been a good idea though and Charlotte had spent long hours talking to Jess, Duke and Audrey about it, followed by long hours in the lab trying to make it work. Nathan thought they were being reckless, he thought they were taking the theory too far and he was worried they would end up making things worse. She had to admit he had a point, but then he wasn’t so worried that he was actually try to stop them, so maybe he thought she had a point too.

Her thoughts wandered as she walked along the path, and she found herself thinking about the relationships between the people she’d had those conversations with. She wasn’t sure what to make of the four of them; Jess, Nathan, Audrey and Duke. Their relationship together was somehow indefinable, to her at least.  Sometimes they seemed like four intersecting couples, sometimes they seemed like two overlapping triads; it was confusing. But they seemed to be happy so she left them to it.

She was glad she’d met Dwight, though he didn’t like this idea they were about to try out either - he didn’t think it was worth the risk. But she did, and so did Duke, and so here they were. And there was Duke, stood over a clearly dead man, glassy eyes staring up at the sky.

Charlotte handed Duke their first batch of processed aether. Hopefully, it was altered enough that he would be able to use it without putting himself at risk, but not altered so much that it had lost all of its power. Hopefully, the unaltered aether already in his blood would help him channel the power of the stuff she handed to him.

Duke looked at it for a moment before smearing it on his palm. It seemed to Charlotte that he was nervous too, but she didn’t know what she could say that hadn’t already been said many times before. He took a big breath in, closed his eyes, and pressed his hand to the dead man’s chest.

Charlotte wasn’t sure who was more surprised when the formerly dead body started breathing. A moment later the recent corpse sat up, startled. Charlotte tried to calm him and check him over. They walked him back over the bridge and Stan called for an ambulance - he seemed to be OK, but it made sense to get him checked out properly.

Then Charlotte and Duke stood and looked at each other, stunned. She fired a few questions at him, watching him closely to see if he really was unaffected. He seemed to be and she wasn’t sure what good an ambulance would do him if he wasn’t. They’d already agreed that she would take some more samples of his blood to check for any differences in the traces of aether she’d found before.

So there was more work to do, and she knew the others would have questions. But they could put this down as a good day. And if they could use some of the power of the aether to their benefit, then maybe they had a chance afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More [prompt responses here](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/159949915038/week-two-fic-roundup-great-job-guys-this-weeks) :)


	3. Week Three: Cabin Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [the prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/160737150538/week-three-fic-roundup-great-job-guys-this): “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nathan + Duke, set earlyish in the series.

What might once have been a cosy retreat from the elements, was now starting to fall apart at the seams and it wouldn’t be many more years before it offered little protection from the weather at all.

For now though, the one room lodge still kept the rain and the wind at bay, a fact which its current occupants were very glad of, even if they didn’t realise it yet.

The first man to wake, sprung to his feet all at once and looked around frantically as if he expected the small space to be full of people. He stilled a little when he saw there was only one other person, passed out on the floor next to his feet. Not that this made him feel a whole lot better. Two strangers, passed out in an apparently abandoned lodge for no obvious reason; there had to be something unpleasant behind that story.

When the guy didn’t react to a couple of increasingly forceful nudges of a boot in the ribs, he bent down worried. But there was definitely breathing and he couldn’t see any obvious injuries. He took the opportunity to take a closer look - at least it was someone attractive with him that he found himself in some potentially nasty situation with.

He stood and turned around to take a more considered look at the room. He found himself unreasonably bothered by the obvious neglect and decay in a place he knew nothing about and which could easily represent some kind of prison or trap.

“Who are you?” asked an insistent voice behind him.

So good, the guy had woken up. “I don’t know,” he replied, turning around.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You must know who you are!”

“Well, I don’t. Who are you?”

The other guy hesitated, then offered no reply.

“You don’t know who you are either, do you?”

The glare he got in reply seemed to prove him right. Then there was a reply after all, “Check your pockets,” he instructed.

Bristling slightly at being given orders, he couldn’t deny the sense of it, especially when he found a worn leather wallet, almost as dilapidated as the cabin they stood in. He stared at it for a moment, unaccountably nervous about what he might find inside.

The other guy beat him to it. “Nathan. My name is Nathan; I’m a cop,” and he held up the ID from his wallet.

“OK,” somehow this made him more nervous, but he knew he was going to have to open the wallet regardless. Inside he found cash, a few photos and handwritten notes, and a whole selection of various kinds of ID, with a whole selection of different names on them.

“What do I look like?” he asked.

Slightly distracted by examining the further contents of his wallet, Nathan looked up briefly, “Tall, dark hair, some kind of beard.” He looked more closely, “Brown eyes,” he added.

While not the most precise description, it did fit the photos he was looking at. Only problem being, they had different names attached to them. He flicked through all the various cards again; only one name came up more than once. “I think my name is Duke,” he offered.

“You think?”

“Well what kind of a name is Duke?” he said, putting the wallet back in his pocket. Possibly there was an entirely legal explanation for why he had such a variety of ID, but he didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t want to have that conversation with a police officer right now.

“OK fine. Hello Duke.”

“Hi Nathan, nice to meet you. Where are we?”

“I have no idea.”

Duke was prevented from further reply by the ringing of a phone and started patting his pockets again. “I don’t think it’s me.”

It seemed to take him a long time to find it, but eventually Nathan pulled a phone out of his pocket. “Hello?” he answered and then after a moment added, “I think so, yes.” Duke listened as he spoke again, “Can you tell me who I am?”

Duke tried to gesture to Nathan that he wanted in on the conversation, and after a slightly awkward, “Thanks,” Nathan added, “I’m going to put you on speaker. There’s someone else here, we think his name is Duke.”

They stood in front of each other while Nathan held the phone between them. Duke heard a woman’s voice, sounding concerned as she asked, “Duke?”

He was afraid to reply in case that wasn’t who he really was. He cleared his throat, “I think so. Do you know me?”

“Hi Duke,” she replied, sounding relieved. “Yes, I know you. My name is Audrey and I’m going to sort this out. I think I know what’s going on, I just need to track down the person who has both of your memories.”

“Can you tell us who he is? Duke I mean,” asked Nathan.

The voice on the other end of the phone seemed to hesitate, “Duke is … your oldest friend. You’ve saved each other’s lives a whole bunch of times; I know you’re probably a bit freaked out, but you’re going to be OK. I just need you to stay together, and stay where you are, OK? Don’t go anywhere, I’ll come and find you as soon as I can. I just really need you to wait there together for me, can you do that?”

Nathan nodded before he replied, “OK.”

Duke shrugged, “Sure,” he said, “It’s not like I had any other plans.”

When Nathan hung up they stood and looked at each other.

“OK, so we’ll wait for her,” confirmed Duke.

“She said I work with her. She sounded … competent,” Nathan finished after a moment, at the same time as Duke suggested, “Determined.”

They both nodded, “That too,” agreed Nathan.

“When she said we were old friends,” began Duke, “She said it like it wasn’t the whole story.”

“She did,” agreed Nathan, with a cute little frown that Duke realised he found adorable.

“She said it like there was something else going on,” Duke continued.

“Or had been,” Nathan offered.

“Like, ex-lovers who fell out, but still …”

“… care enough to …”

“… risk their lives for each other?”

Duke was suddenly very aware that without the justification of the phone call to listen to, they were standing unnecessarily close to each other. But he had no interest in stepping away, and apparently neither did Nathan.

“So,” said Duke, voice low as he shifted his weight just a little further forward, “We are under strict instructions to stay here, on our own, for an unspecified amount of time, in a ramshackle old cabin with nothing to do. How ever are we going to entertain ourselves?”

Nathan very slowly and carefully put his phone back in his pocket, and then Duke watched in delight as his face formed into a little grin even more adorable than the frown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More [prompt responses here](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/160737150538/week-three-fic-roundup-great-job-guys-this).


	4. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the @havencrew prompt:  
> “They did not just say that.”  
> “They did.”  
> “You can’t just say that on the radio!”

“They did not just say that.”

“They did.”

“You can’t just say that on the radio!”

“It’s just a stupid survey, Duke.”

He glared back at her, “Yes but it sounds like a headline, which makes it sound official, which means I am never going to hear the end of it.”

“It’s just some dumbass marketing thing; it’s probably sponsored by …”

“Don’t say it!” Duke interrupted her.

Audrey sighed, “He might not even have heard it. And there are actually more important things to think about; we still don’t know what’s going on with …” But she stopped talking as Nathan walked through the door and she saw his grin.

“‘Pancakes named as Maine’s favourite breakfast’,” he quoted. “Thank you WDLH!”

Duke sighed and Audrey rolled her eyes, realising Duke was right; it was going to be a while before Nathan let this go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally [posted on tumblr](https://cookiedoughmeagain.tumblr.com/post/161013843746/pancakes-haven-fanfic) in May, with the radio name of WABK, but I just realised there is a radio station referred to in canon and it is [WDLH](http://havenmaine.wikia.com/wiki/WDLH), so that's what it reads here:)


	5. Half a Pancake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/169641394833/skazuhira-crankyteapot-crankyteapot-do): Do you think seagulls feel regret? Cause i just witnessed one swallow half a pancake in less than a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not so much a whole fic, as two little snippets of seagull-related Trouble potential that made me laugh.

“Um… Audrey?” Duke poked his head into her office, sounding uncertain, amused and slightly scared all at once.

“Yeah?” she asked, and looked up from her paperwork to see Duke staring at Nathan’s desk.

“Where’s Nathan?” Duke said, and the tone of his voice made her think it was not so much a question as a warning. A caution. An oh-god-not-really.

“He went to follow up on a call at the farmers’ market,” Audrey told him, putting down her pen and sitting up straighter. Something in the almost-panic, almost-laughter in his voice was scaring her. “Why?”

“Um … do we know of an animal transformation trouble? Or, one involving maybe … seagulls?”

“No,” said Audrey slowly. And then very firmly added, “Why.”

“Because … I just witnessed one swallow half a pancake in less than a second. And then, I swear it glared at me.”

Audrey narrowed her eyes at him, torn between running out of the office in a panic to find the curious creature, and laughing herself silly at the thought of it. She said nothing, and reached for her radio instead.

\--

“So, which one was it?” Audrey asked, pointing vaguely at the numerous seagulls strutting along the faded wooden boards, bobbing along in the water and flying over head.

“Well I don’t know, do I? I can’t tell one seagull from another!” Duke protested.

As he finished speaking, a streak of white landed on his shoulder, and he looked down at it, incensed. “If that was him… If he crapped on me on purpose, I’m going to …” he flailed around for a moment for an appropriate insult, before shouting at the sky, “I’M GOING TO INVENT SEAGULL PIE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is always so interesting to see what different people do with the same prompt; find the other responses here: <https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/169977369528/week-one-of-2018-fic-roundup-thank-you-guys-for>


	6. Soaked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the [@HavenCrew prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/170513901768/week-two-of-2018-fic-roundup-really-glad-to-see):
> 
> “I’m not saying you can’t shoot him. I’m just saying you can’t shoot him here.” 
> 
> #fluff, #post-Troubles, #happily ever after AU

Audrey was having a busy day, but it was the nice kind of busy. They were helping to organise the now-traditional spring gathering at the community hall to celebrate the anniversary of its construction. People were still arriving, but there were plenty there already and it looked like it would be a good day.

There were plenty of people she knew, and some she didn’t, and it was the same as all the other years; everyone brought some food, some wine, some music. There was a big buffet table laid out at one end of the space for all the food, and smallers ones dotted all around for people to sit and eat. People mingled and talked, and ate and drank, and the weather was just about warm enough for the kids to run around outside. It was barely contained chaos, but somehow it worked. It was  _ normal _ and that shouldn’t have been a novelty after all this time, but it was still something she appreciated.

“Oh hey, Gloria. Can you take these down to the table?” Audrey asked, handing over a stack of paper plates and cups.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Gloria replied, and took them with her as Audrey carried on searching through the cupboards for the bottle opener she had actually been looking for, shaking her head to herself in wonder at still being referred to as ‘kiddo’ even though she now had two of her own.

Finally she found it and turned around to the nearest table where she had left the bottle of wine she’d been trying to open for the past ten minutes. She looked around at the crowd as she fiddled with the foil on the bottle. Dwight and McHugh were here, Vickie was entertaining some of the older kids by teaching them how to draw cartoons, Gloria was keeping some of the younger kids in order and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

She couldn’t see her own kids, but then she knew they were probably outside, finally able to make use of their Christmas present from Dwight now that the weather was a bit nicer. 

But then, maybe not. “Eleanor Charlotte Parker! Put that down.” Audrey’s voice rang out through the crowd and Ele did what she was told right away; she knew that when her mom used her full name like that she wasn’t messing about.

She wasn’t above protesting though. “But they’re winning,” Ele said plaintively. 

Audrey put down the wine and the bottle opener and crouched down to talk to her daughter. She had Audrey’s blonde hair and Nathan’s blue, blue eyes, and at ten years old most people described her as adorable. Audrey was aware than in another ten, the word would probably be ‘stunning’. Her parents regarded this as something of a mixed blessing, and were careful to compliment her for things besides her looks.

Audrey looked at the water pistol Ele was carrying. “What are the rules?” she asked.

Ele sighed. “No shooting indoors,” she replied. “But …”

“And ..?” Audrey prompted her.

“No shooting people who aren’t part of the game,” Ele added.

“And …?”

“No filing them up with anything besides water,” Ele finished, and then quickly returned to her original point. “But they’re winning and I had a clear shot at him!” And she pointed over to the other end of the kitchen where her twin brother Jack was struggling to fill his pistol up at the sink. “I have to shoot him or they’ll win,” she finished miserably.

Jack’s hair was a lot darker than his sister’s and he had Duke’s warm brown eyes. The general opinion seemed to be that he looked like Audrey until he smiled, and Audrey had to agree that his smile was pure Duke. They didn’t look much alike, her twins, but she had a feeling that in a few years they would both have plenty of admirers. She hoped they had raised them to deal with the attention well; she thought they had.

“I’m not saying you can’t shoot him. I’m just saying you can’t shoot him  _ here _ ,”  Audrey pointed out. “Now, in theory you have a clear shot at him, but you have to work within the rules. You have to think smart. What are your teams?”

“Me and Kate against Jack and Aaron,” Ele explained.

“Hmmm, that doesn’t sound very fair, Aaron is a lot older than Kate.”

“I still think we can win. Aaron is getting distracted by the food,” Ele said, pointing to the buffet table to where Aaron, turning 14 in a couple of weeks, was talking to a pretty girl a few years older who had arrived with Larissa and her family. Audrey didn’t think it was the food that was distracting him, but she wasn’t going to point that out to her ten year old right now.

“He does look distracted, that’s a good point. Where’s Kate?”

“She’s outside hiding in the buddleia bush,” Ele told her in a stage whisper.

Audrey looked out the window to the overgrown bush that had a perfect view of the door; Kate was ready to take a shot at Jack when he went back outside, which would not be too long now that Nathan was helping him get the cap clipped back on the tank properly.

Audrey nodded. “That’s a good spot,” she said.

Ele beamed. “That was my idea,” she said proudly.

“Good work!” Audrey said. “Nice tactics.” Audrey looked around her at the room and the space outside, assessing her daughter’s options.

“How much water do you have in your tank? Do you need to fill up?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“OK, then here’s what I think you should do.”

Ele leaned closer to listen, and Audrey laid out her plan in a careful whisper. As she finished, her daughter stepped back and looked at her in delight, “Awesome!” she said, and ran off in the direction Audrey had suggested.

Audrey laughed happily and stood back up. As she reached for the bottle of wine, she found Duke already opening it for her.

“You’re not taking sides in the Great Water Pistol Fight?” he asked, mock-horrified.

“Just giving your daughter some tactical suggestions,” Audrey grinned.

“FBI tactics for a ten year old, the boys are going to get soaked,” he laughed.

“Well, Jack might. I think Aaron is more interested in talking to the pretty teenager.”

“Ah,” said Duke looking over to them and nodding. “Well good for him. So Jack is outnumbered?” 

Audrey looked over to where Nathan was now whispering in Jack’s ear. “Looks like he’s getting some advice of his own,” she pointed out.

“Oh Jesus, FBI  _ and _ Haven PD tactics in the hands of ten year olds; we’re all going to get soaked! Why do they have these things again?”

“Because since Lizzie went off to college, Dwight’s forgotten they’re the kind of present that give parents headaches?”

Duke laughed, but he shook his head. “I don’t think he’s forgotten at all. We’ve got five of the things, right? Next time we have him round to ours, you can both brief all of us, and then  _ he  _ is getting soaked.”


	7. Wonderful and Painful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the [@havencrew prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/170740913218/the-prompt-youre-having-nightmares-again);
> 
> “You’re having nightmares again, aren’t you?”  
> “How did you know?”
> 
> #canon compliant #post finale #Nathan and Paige #I totally cried

She's been in town for a few months now, and it's still the most wonderful and the most painful thing, every time I see her.

She doesn't know many people in Haven so we meet for lunch every Friday. Last week she told me she'd been having nightmares. Today she seems jittery, wrung out, strung too thin.

"You've been having nightmares again, haven't you?” I ask. It comes out a but more bluntly than I intended. Audrey was right; I have no game with chicks.

She narrows her eyes at me. “How did you know?” she asks. I want to tell her that she has that look in her eyes, the same look Audrey would get when she wasn't sleeping or when … whenever things got really bad. I don't though. “You just look tired,” I say.

For a long time I was so angry; at my father, at Vince and Dave, for not telling us more, for not explaining about the Troubles from the start. But now I have some more understanding of how difficult it must have been for them. Paige remembers being a kid in 1983, and as far as she's concerned she'd never been to Haven before this year. Who am I to tell her any different?

She nods resignedly, “I am tired,” she tells me. “Between James and the nightmares I've hardly been sleeping at all.”

James. Every time I see him, every time she mentions him, my heart missed a beat. Can this little baby really be the child Sarah conceived in 1955? Could he be my son? How could Paige ever accept that? Why should she? If I can't tell her that her childhood isn't really hers, I’m sure as hell going to struggle to explain that she doesn't actually know how her child was conceived, or even when he was really born.

The mention of James throws me enough that I miss a little of what she says, but she's talking about the nightmares and when I realise what she's describing, my heart skips again.

“... it's like I'm stuck in some  _ place _ , some impossible place, nothing there but slick white walls, no sense of time. And then I'm not there at all, I'm somewhere else, except I think it's actually still Haven and it's me that's different. Like I'm not me anymore, I'm someone else. And then there are all of these impossible things happening. A woman whose emotions control the weather, a woman whose art work comes to life, a woman whose every food she touches turns to cake.”

I try not to look too dumbfounded as she talks. She is warming to her subject and she clearly needs to get it off her chest, so I let her. At the same time I'm trying to work out what it means. Is she remembering? Is this what happens when an overlay personality doesn't stick?

“But then the nightmare part is that these impossible things keep getting worse and worse, and I supposed to fix it but it's not possible. And then … there  _ are _ ways to stop it but they are even  _ worse _ than the things that are happening, and then the whole town is a waste land, like some apocalyptic movie, and then I … whoever I am in the dream, the me who isn't me, she dies and she knows she has to go but it's the hardest thing she ever had to do and god … it just tears me apart every time and it  _ doesn't even make any sense _ .”

She takes a big breath in, shakes her head and apologises before taking another sip of coffee. I tell her not to worry, that there's nothing to apologise for. I say that nightmares can be strange and stressful. But then I realise I can't leave it at that. I want to tell her for my own sake of course but also, doesn't she have a right to know what's happening to her? Doesn't she have a right to the information that would help her make sense of the nightmares?

“Have you heard of the Troubles?” I ask. She's been in town a while now, and people are still talking about what they went through. It's possible.

She shakes her head, surprised by the apparent change in topic. Frustrating though they may often have been, I wish that Vince and Dave were here.

“This town has … legends,” I say. “Stories and myths dating way back, stories of things...’ I hesitate  but there is no going back now. “Stories of things like people whose emotions affected the weather, stories of things like drawings that could kill people.”

She stares at me, unsure for a moment if I'm serious, wondering if I'm laughing at her. I look back and she sees that I mean it.

“Huh,” she says. “But … How am I dreaming about stories I've never heard before? Even if such things could be real, what can they have to do with me when I just got here?”

I take a sip of coffee to buy myself some time. If I wanted, I have evidence; photos of Audrey, photos of the two of us together. I have a copy of the Colorado Kid photo; a newspaper with a date on it. The Haven Heralds office is still there across the street. Battered and boarded up, half the archives gone, but still there. Evidence of the 27 year cycle, the historical context. I can back my story up with proof if I want to.

Paige looks at me, curious, confused and looking for answers.

I take a deep breath. I have a decision to make.

\--

I've been in Haven for two years, and every day I thank my lucky stars that I met a man like Nathan Wuornos. 

I suppose it was fate really, but I still feel lucky. He is kind and patient, so supportive, and he is great with James. He told me what happened, before I got here; what happened in Haven before I was me. If it wasn't for the nightmares I wouldn't have believed him, no matter what photos he had. It would have been too much to take in. As it was, I could feel the truth of it, and after a while the nightmares faded into dreams.

I still get flashes of her though; shards of memory of what it was like to be Audrey Parker. She loved this town so much, like it was part of her.

Sometimes I get flashes from the others too; Lucy, Sarah. I remembered the day she spent with Nathan on the beach before he told me about the James he knew before. We've talked about DNA testing, to find out for sure, but truthfully it feels a bit redundant. Regardless of the result, Nathan is already a father to my little boy; the only father he's ever known. We moved in with him a year ago, and we're a family now.

We don't often talk about what happened before I got here. I think it helps him to move on, to focus on the rebuilding, to think about the future instead of the past. He told me about the promise me made to Audrey as they were saying goodbye; he lives that every day.

Sometimes the past does bubble up though, in dreams and his own nightmares. He fidgets in his sleep, calls to Audrey, talks to Duke. Sometimes I wake him up and he looks at me confused, wondering who I am. Sometimes he wakes himself out of it and I hold him as he falls back to sleep. 

Sometimes we talk about it the next day, sometimes he takes James out to see some of the rebuilding efforts. I think his nightmares are fading though, slowly. It seems like they come less often. I think it's helped him, having me and James here and being able to talk to me about it.

Sometimes I still get flashes of Audrey’s memories. I can feel how much she loved him; how hard it was for her to go. I know she would rather be here herself if she could. But I think that if she knew, if she could see the three of us together and the way that Nathan smiles when James calls him Daddy, well … I can feel it in my heart that she would be glad.


	8. Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the [@havencrew prompt](https://havencrew.tumblr.com/post/171697526543/the-prompt-please-dont-the-tag) "Please Don't."
> 
> Originally [published on tumblr](https://cookiedoughmeagain.tumblr.com/post/171836407491/later-haven-fanfic-for-the-havencrew-prompt).

Nathan put one piece of paperwork in the ‘done’ pile, looked over at the still-substantial ‘to do’ pile and sighed. The one downside to the end of the Troubles was longer periods of time where nothing much happened but paperwork. He looked at the clock and picked up the next form.

He'd hardly made a dent in it when he looked up again to see Duke in his doorway. “Duke,” he greeted him, surprised, “What are you doing here?” The grin on Duke’s face told him it wasn't because of any life or death emergency, and however much things may have changed between them, it still wasn't like Duke to come into the station unless he absolutely had to.

Duke’s grin widened and he shut, and locked, the door behind him. “Duke,” Nathan repeated, a cautious warning, “What's going on?”

Duke sauntered across the room and around Nathan's desk to lean on it next to him, turning Nathan's chair away from the internal window to face him. “Just thought I'd come and say hello,” he said.

“Duke Crocker, willingly entering a police station, just because he felt like it?” Nathan asked in disbelief.

“You don't believe me?”

Nathan shook his head, made a sweeping gesture with his hand, “There's too many cops in here for you.”

“Hmmm, well. Some cops I like,” Duke offered, his voice low and eager, dancing around the possibilities and implications of exactly what he meant, as he brought his fingertips to the inside of Nathan's wrist.

Nathan shivered at the still-novel sensation of skin-against-skin. Duke’s fingers ran gently across the crease of his wrist in just the right way to send shivers of pleasure echoing up through his arm and tingles of anticipation all through the rest of him. His eyelids fell closed against the pleasure of it for a moment before he remembered where he was. He opened his eyes again and turned his hand so that his wrist twisted away from Duke’s fingers. “Don't,” he warned softly, with a little shake of the head.

“You love it when I touch you like that,” protested Duke, and he reached for Nathan's other wrist.

“I do,” agreed Nathan, and he left his arm where it was for just a moment, just long enough for a blast of sensation from Duke’s nimble fingers, and then he pulled his arm away. “But not here,” he finished.

“Nate,” said Duke. “It's quiet out there. It's nearly the end of the day, and everyone who is here is just thinking about going home. Besides,” he added as he shifted closer to Nathan along the desk, “I locked the door.”

That was something, but it wasn't enough. This was still his office, and there was still a window looking out to the rest of the station. Still, it was tempting; the things Duke could do with those hands. But Nathan shook his head even as Duke reached out to him again. “Please don't,” he said. “Not here.”

Duke let his hand fall back onto his own leg, but he didn't move away. He stayed exactly where he was, close enough that Nathan could feel the heat coming off his body as he spoke, close enough that he could smell the cooking oil and bleach of the kitchen at the Gull, a hint of engine oil from the Rouge or his truck, and underneath it all the familiar scent of sandalwood that somehow always clung to Duke’s skin whatever he got up to. “Later then?” Duke breathed softly. “Can I touch you like that later?”

Nathan nodded, and Duke kept talking, “Can I touch you, so softly it makes you shiver? Gives you goosebumps all over? Can I take my time undressing you? One, individual, button, at a time,” Duke spaced his words out, punctuating each gap with a tap of his fingers against his own thigh, moving up towards his crotch as he spoke. “My lips and my fingers dancing lightly over you as I go, until you're nothing but a mass of melted, writhing, wordless pleasure underneath me?”

Duke had been leaning slowly forward as he spoke in an ever more quiet tone, “Can I?” he breathed, barely audible. “Later?” he finished, both a question and a promise.

Nathan's eyes fell to Duke’s lips and he deliberately sat very still as his breath came out a little ragged. He nodded slowly. “Yes,” he replied quietly, intently, before adding a moment later, “Please.”

Duke nodded and stood up, satisfied that he had achieved what he'd set out to. “Later then,” he said with a grin, and turned and left.

Nathan didn't move as he watched him go, sat very still for a long moment as he looked at the now open door and waited for his breathing to return to normal. Duke could be so intensely …. two words came to him at once; one was ‘infuriating’ the other was ‘hot’.

Nathan looked at his desk, looked at the clock and shook his head. Then he stood and grabbed his coat on the way out.

Fuck it, the paperwork could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may add more chapters to this, in which case I'll publish the whole thing as a separate work :)


End file.
